Never Before Seen
by PulseWriter
Summary: Erik returns to the Opera one year later to find it repaired with new staff and under the instruction of Madame Giry. Also new is the arrival of the Von Trost sisters - the beautiful Mina, charming little Gretel, and the practical Brigitta. When Erik falls for Mina, he believes this time things will be simpler, but things are never simple when it comes to love and murder.
1. Chapter 1

News of the Opera's reopening spread like a wildfire. Not that it was much surprise to anyone. Construction had been going on for well over a year; horses bringing building supplies, a large new chandelier being shipped in as well, there was no doubt about what was going on. Most of the aristocracy was thrilled. Their evenings had been filled with little entertainment without the Opera. The remaining Parisians wondered if it was a good idea. They had heard the rumors. While the managers had tried to sell it as a freak accident, everyone with common sense knew. Knew about the monster that had abducted the lead singer the night of the fire.

It was now a horror story that was spread around all of Paris, near enough to match that of Jack to Ripper in England. And yet the Opera announced that it would be opening in a week, right at the peak of the season. There was much to do and still very little time to do it. You might have thought that the managers (Monsieur Firmin and Andre) would be finishing up the preparations, and they certainly took the credit for it. But in reality Madame Giry, the head of the ballet department, was the reason everything was running to efficiently.

No one dared to slack under the instruction of Madame Giry. Her word was law in preparing the Opera. Her job kept her awake at night, took up her all her time, and made her question if what she was doing was right. She lay in bed, playing with her braid and starring up at the ceiling, thinking until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Was is wise to reopen the place that had ruined so many lives? Would this bring back more dangers? Or perhaps she was simply trying to erase the past and rebuild the memories of when the Opera was a home to many, not just to monsters and ghosts.

"Mother, if you keep at this I fear your health will suffer for it."

Giry looked up from her bowl of soup, her tired eyes looking over her daughter. Her pretty face was etched with worry, her blonde hair pulled up on top her head in the latest fashion. She really had grown up to be a beautiful young woman.

"Meg my dear, if I relent in my work, I fear I may be driven mad by memories," she whispered, taking a hearty sip from the bowl. Meg sighed, reaching forward and gripping her mother's hand, blue eyes pleading.

"Then why stay in the place that caused those memories?" she asked. Giry gripped her daughter's hand tightly, trying to offer her a smile. While she was happy that she had taken her life into her own hands, it still pained her to see her only child, one who was so very talented, leave the Opera. But she had expressed her desire to leave the place, especially after everything that had happened.

"Because Meg, I still have hope that I might build some happy memories here again." Meg closed her eyes, slightly shaking her head. She had tried many times to convince her mother to leave and come with her, but each time had been met with the same response. That had been the last time Meg had visited the Opera House. It had been to say goodbye and to promise that should would write. Giry kept up her appearances as her daughter waved from the carriage which rolled away from the Opera, taking her daughter away. She had cried that night, sobbing into her pillow and gripping her sheets in despair. The morning came, and with that morning came more work.

The main problem that Madame Giry faced was finding employees to take on the duties of the Opera. A few performers and cast had returned, but most refused; the same with the maids, the artists and musicians. Giry spent days pouring over ads, sending letters and offering jobs to many a craftsman to come work at the Opera. She was now resorting to hiring off the streets, as well as holding open auditions. As an old fashioned artist herself, she was not pleased with the idea of bringing in street talent but desperate times called for desperate measures. Stress and being overworked had dragged the strict dancer instructor down considerably, but she would never let anyone see it.

Only a week away from opening, with auditions coming up, and still so much to do Madame Giry once again found herself lying awake in bed. After a long while of looking up at the ceiling, something prompted her to get up, throwing the covers back. Tugging on her robe, she lite a candle and opened her bedroom door. The Opera house was dark and lifeless without the staff moved in. She questioned why she stayed there, but knew. It was her only home.

A chilly breeze blew down the hall, making the woman shiver. Stepping out into the hall, she closed the door behind her and walked down the hall. She wandered for a long while before reaching the dressing room where everything had changed. Opening the door, Madame Giry poked her head in, eyes scanning the dark room. None of the candles were lit, leaving her burning wick as the only light source. Stepping inside, she walked up to the large mirror, peering at her reflection. The shadows danced across her face, making her look even older than she was.

"Oh, Giry," she whispered, bringing a hand up to her face. "When did you start growing so old?" Sighing, she placed her hand on the cool glass. A shiver ran down her spine as she starred back at herself. As if possessed by some sudden instinct, Giry latched her fingers behind the sliver of space between the glass and the frame and pulled it to the side. The glass vanished to reveal a man, tall and dark, with half his face hidden behind a white mask, looming over her. Gasping, Madame Giry dropped her candle, the flame vanishing, along with the remaining light in the room.

Suddenly caught in the dark, she fell back onto the couch, moving to the far end. "Erik," she gasped, her voice shaking. "Stay back, don't you come near me or I swear I will scream!" Silence met her, making her heart bang painfully against her ribs. She could just imagine him walking up, a noose in his hands. She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. He meant to kill her. She knew it. He had returned to enact his revenge. God damn him, the Opera hadn't even officially reopened! Sobbing, Giry waited for her throat to be pulled tight, but instead, she heard a thump and felt something rest in her lap. Blinking and panting, she raised a shaky hand and felt a head resting in her lap, like a child who was tired. Shocked, her entire body froze.

"Giry," Erik whispered. His voice sounded heavy, sad, destroyed. Blinking, Giry left her hand on his head, not sure what to do. "I am…depleted. I did not know where else to go." She felt his hands grip her dress tightly and suddenly realized that the Phantom, the murderer who had ruined so many lives, was sobbing into her nightgown. "A year I tried to forget, a whole year Giry," he whispered. "I traveled, I played many songs, but something always reminded me of her. Something always made me leave. I can not take it. It will drive me mad, the sound of her voice, her eyes. I see them every time I try to sleep." Giry had straightened herself, blinking into the darkness as she listened to all his woes. He sobbed, fingers curling is despair. "There is nowhere for me to go Giry. Nowhere but here. There was never any chance of me forgetting. I will die here and only here." His words tore through her and suddenly brought about the courage that had fled here.

"Erik," she whispered, not able to raise her voice. "You cannot return. Not when the Opera has just begun to heal from your actions. Dear God, everyone I have hired will flee if they even hear rumors of your return!" Erik looked up at Madame Giry, pleading on his face. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she was able to see that much.

"I will be as silent at the grave," he choked. "Giry, I beg of you. Let me choose my coffin. I only wish to live out the rest of my days in the only home I have even known." Her breath hitched and she stared down at him. She no longer saw the murderer and the monster. She saw the broken boy she had rescued all those years ago, now begging her, pleading even. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart soften. After a long moment, she hung her head.

"Alright," she whispered. "But do not mistake this as mercy for what you have done. If anything happens Erik, anything at all…" She was unable to finish her sentence. There was nothing she could threaten him with, but she seemed to have gotten her point across because Erik collected himself and stood, looking down at her with sadness, but a small smile painted his lips.

"Of course," he whispered. Nodding her head, Giry closed her eyes to suddenly feel a hand on her head and pair of lips pressed against her forehead. Blinking shock, Giry looked up at Erik. "Thank you, Giry." He gave a small bow and headed back to the mirror. It was as if she could see the darkness clinging to him, dragging him back down to his realm of solitude. The mirror slid shut, clicking behind him. Giry starred at the glossy glass for a long time before standing up and turning to leave the room, wondering again if she was doing the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

"Brigitta. Brigitta, wake up!"

Brigitta Von Trost woke to her two braids being tugged and shaken like the reins on a horse.

"Ouch!" she cried, the skin on her skull now sore and throbbing. She opened her eyes to look up at her little sister Gretel, who was the apparent culprit. Her cheery round and pretty face beamed down at her older sister and she bounced up and down on her stomach.

"It is time to get up! Up, up, up!" Brigitta quickly gripped her sister's sides and lifted her off her stomach and threw her down on the pile of hay next to her, sending happy squeals into the air. Smiling silently, Brigitta sat up, her back sore. The hay wagon they had been riding on was now still, signaling that they had arrived. Turning to her right, Brigitta looked down at her other sister.

Mina was three years Brigitta's senior at the bright age of nineteen, and looked like a princess even while sleeping in a pile of straw. Her wavy blonde hair splayed out around her, her ivory skin practically glowing in the sunlight, her chest rising and falling in a deep sleep. Biting her lip, Brigitta gently shook her older sister. Nothing.

"Mina," Gretel whispered, crawling through the straw to her other sister. She climbed on top of her and used her small little hand to open one of her sister's eyes. That did the trick. Mina groaned, rolling over and causing Gretel to fall into Brigitta's lap.

"Mina," Brigitta said, trying to hold a squirming Gretel with little luck. "We are here."

"Where?" Mina moaned. Brigitta's eyebrows knitted together. How could she have forgotten? She was the one that insisted that they come here of all places.

"Paris," she answered. Mina did not move for a moment before she sprang up, her blue eyes suddenly awake and alive with excitement. Brigitta blinked, watching as Mina turned to beam at her. Brigitta felt a pang of envy as she looked at her sister. Even thought she had been sleeping in the back of a hay cart and hadn't bathed in a week, her older sister still managed to look flawless and beautiful as ever. Brigitta looked like she had lived in a barn all her life, what with her long, mousy blonde hair that she had wrestled into two braids that hung down to her stomach.

"Paris," she breathed. "Come on!" She slid of the cart, catching her balance and brushing off her cotton dress, looking around and laughing. Brigitta quickly followed, making sure that Gretel got off the cart safely before taking her hand and running after Mina.

The three sisters had only ever heard of Paris. Mina had poured over picture books, memorized every fact, and begged their mother to spill every detail whenever she returned from a trip to France. Now, with the bustling city in front of them, it seemed so much more real. Mina had pulled out a piece of paper from the folds of her dress, looking down at whatever was written on it and checking street signs. Having finally caught up to her, Brigitta tried to read whatever was on the paper.

"What is that?" she asked, watching as Mina's face lit up. She turned to smile at her sisters.

"The way to our new home!" she cried, and with that, she took off down the street. Stunned by her statement, Brigitta tugged Gretel along as she tried to keep up. They ran through the crowded street of Paris, earning annoyed glances, except for those who saw Mina. Their heads turned to watch after her, their mouths turning into smiles, men's brows raising as they caught a glimpse of the blonde beauty. Brigitta prayed that she could keep her sister in sight and managed, after what felt like an hour of running, to stand by her sister's side. Mina looked onward, chest rising and falling from exertion, blue eyes shining. Brigitta turned to see a large building across the road. Her mouth fell open as she craned her neck back, staring up at the beautiful statues, professional architecture, and golden accents. She couldn't believe what she was looking at. Never in her life had she seen such a magnificent building. It wasn't until she looked down more that she saw the banner that was handing across the entry way.

OPERA POPULAR

GRANDE REOPENING ON JULY 1ST

AUDITIONS NOW TAKING PLACE

Brigitta felt her face grow pale upon reading the banner.

"Let's get inside! Quickly!" Mina said, tucking her paper away and taking off across the street.

"Mina, wait!" Brigitta cried, but she was already across the street and heading up the marble steps. Making sure Gretel's hand was firmly in hers, Brigitta took off once again. Upon reaching the steps she stopped, suddenly afraid of what might happen if she entered the building. This is what Mina had taken them here for? This?! Feeling anger bubbling up in her chest, she stomped up the steps and pushed open the doors. The entrance way was enough to nearly wipe away all of her anger. Nearly. But all the same, it was a grand sight to see. Gretel gasped, tugging at Brigitta's dress.

"Are we in a castle?" she asked, eyes wide. Mina, who had been spinning in the foray happily, ran forward to lift her baby sister in the air, spinning her around.

"Yes! Yes we are! A beautiful castle Gretel! And we are going to live here!" Gretel laughed happily, spreading her arms wide.

"Yay! A castle! We are princesses now!"

Brigitta stared at this scene with horror on her face. Shaking herself, she stepped forward, gripping her dress in anger.

"Mina," she said, her voice firm. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep!" Mina stopped spinning, lowering Gretel into her arms to hold her on her hip. She blinked, eyes narrowing on her sister.

"Of course not. I'm not doing that at all." Brigitta stomped her foot, her face turning red.

"Yes you are! You dragged us all the way from Germany just so you could audition for an Opera House! You don't even know if you can get in! And even if you do, where are Gretel and I supposed to go?!" Mina starred at her sister before turning her head away to hide her face. Brigitta clenched her jaw. She was crying. Oh God, she always seemed to make Mina cry.

"I just thought that it would be better for us here," she whispered. Brigitta closed her eyes. No she hadn't. She hadn't thought that at all. She had been thinking about how she always wanted to be a singer. She probably saw an ad for the Opera House in Paris and thought it would be a good idea to uproot their small and broken family to pursue her own dreams. Brigitta opened her mouth, but a different voice cut through the air.

"May I help you ladies?"

The Von Trost sisters turned to see a very intimidating woman standing before them on the large marble steps. She wore all black, and had a pair of dark circles under her eyes to match. Her eyes reminded Brigitta of a hawk. Mina quickly set Gretel down to fix her dress and hair, as well as brush a few tears away.

"Yes," she said, lowering her eyes and giving a small curtsy. "My name is Mina Von Trost. I would like to audition." Gretel tugged on Mina dress, looking up at the dark woman.

"Me to, Mina. I want to sing to!" The woman looked down at Gretel and her eyes seemed to soften just a little.

"Very well. The auditions are due to begin any moment. Please follow me." The woman turned on her heal and headed up the steps. Mina, inhaling deeply, followed her with as much grace as came naturally to her. Gretel bounded up the steps, giddily flapping her arms. This left Brigitta to tag behind, feeling her heart grow heavy. Surely this wasn't what their parents would have wanted. To put their lives into something as fickle as stage play. Her heart ached at the very thought of her parents. They needed them now more than ever. To keep Mina's daydreams in check and to help Brigitta figure out what to do next. A job. A job is what she needed. She couldn't count on Mina to find something that would pay for all of them. An idea popped into her head, and although she wasn't fond of the idea, she knew that her sisters depended on it.

She skipped a few steps to catch up, looking around in awe despite herself. The dark woman led them into the main theater, making all three of the Von Trost sisters gasp. It was huge, red and gold, with so many seats it seemed like a lake of scarlet. Bending her head back, Brigitta saw the largest chandelier she had ever seen, framed by a painted ceiling that made it look like they had a sky light to heaven. Bringing her attention back down to earth, Brigitta saw that they were not the only ones present. The front half of the seats were occupied with people who had the same hopes and dreams as Mina. The woman directed them to sit and they obeyed.

Mina tucked her hands in her lap, eyes never leaving the stage. Gretel was not able to see over the heads of the people in front of them and crawled into Brigitta's lap instead, sticking her thumb in her mouth and watching the people around them. The dark woman had made her way onto the stage and the chatter that had filled the theater died. The woman's hawk like eyes peered over the crowd before she cleared her throat.

"Welcome to the Opera Popular. As I am sure you all know, this building comes with quiet the reputation, and it is my intention to fill this building with people who can carry that reputation." A few people nodded their heads. Mina was leaning forward, eyes wide as teacup saucers. "Today is where I determine which of you shall carry on the Opera' legacy. Seeing as this is an informal affair I have none of your names to read aloud. Instead, we shall go by row." Brigitta tried to suppress a groan. They had the luck of sitting in the back, which meant that they would be there for at least two hours if not more. Brigitta squirmed in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position for the next few hours.

Row by row people stood up on the stage and presented their songs. Brigitta knew nothing about music. Mina had always been the one to take advantage of voice lessons and the piano. Even Gretel had enjoyed it and was quite good at "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Brigitta however had about as much musical talent as a fly. Her 'constant banging on the piano', as the Von Trost music tutor liked to call it, was about as harmonious as gun fire, and her voice was not much better. Everyone on stage sounded wonderful to Brigitta, but near the end she had the need to use the restroom, and Gretel was bouncing up and down right on her bladder.

"Stay with Mina," Brigitta instructed, setting Gretel down. "I will be right back." Gretel nodded her head, thumb still stuck in her mouth. Brigitta exited the theater as quietly as she could to try and find a washroom. She had not anticipated it to be so very large! She entered the main lobby and got turned around, wondering which hall was the best. She spotted a maid who was waddling by with a mop and bucket and jogged over, which was a bad idea considering her situation.

"Pardon me," she said, struggling with her French and her German accent garbling her words slightly. "Could you tell me where the nearest washroom is?" The maid's face broke out into a cheery smile and nodded her head towards a scarlet lined hallway.

"Just down that way, dearie."

"Thank you so much." Brigitta headed down the hall and whispered a prayer of thanks when she found it. Closing the door, Brigitta took care of her needs and only after that did she allow herself to examine the beautiful decor of the bathroom. She almost felt guilty about using it, it felt like something only a member of society should use. But then again, she supposed she was a member of society considering who her mother and father had been, although she most certainly did not look the part.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Brigitta took a little time to look over her features, something she did not really make a habit of. Her two long braid hung limply over her shoulders (a few pieces of straw still present), a dusty shade of blonde, framing an equally bland face. Leaning closer to the mirror, she examined the light freckles that dusted her nose. She had hoped that she would grow out of them but no such luck. And even at the age of sixteen she had a chest as flat as a board. Shaking herself, she quickly washed her hands with a fine bar of soap that made her skin feel soft and smell of lavender before quickly exiting. She scorned herself for starring at her reflection. It wasn't has if it had improved since the last time she had looked.

She made her way back out to the lobby to see the same maid scrubbing away at the fine marble steps. Making sure not to slip on the now slick surface, Brigitta made her way behind the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. The rolly polly woman turned and smiled up at her.

"Find everything alright?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you very much for the directions," Brigitta said, offering a smile in return.

"No problem," the woman said. "Are you auditioning?"

"Me? Oh no, but my sisters are." Brigitta tried to seem pleased by this, but it was difficult. "I actually am looking for employment in another area."

"Oh?" The woman inquired, setting wiping her hands on her apron. "Why would yah, when you could be a star?" Brigitta crinkled her nose at this, as if any mention of the stage made her want to gag.

"Even if I didn't sing like a crow I wouldn't want to," she said. "I was actually wondering if there were any openings for a maid position or a stage hand." The woman blinked in surprise.

"Most girls your age think about getting married or becoming an actress when they walk in here."

"I'm not most girls," Brigitta said. "I'd like to think myself more practical." The woman let out a gurgling laugh and sighed.

"Well, I won't say no to a young thing such as you! Not with your wit! It would be a nice change around here to have some level headed girls working here. Come with me, we will talk to the Misses." Brigitta smiled in a thank you before holding out her hand.

"I'm Brigitta, by the way. Brigitta Von Trost." The woman grabbed her hand and gave it a firm shake, her cheeks red from all her smiling.

"A pleasure to meet you Brigitta. I'm Penelope Toffet. Although everyone here called me Toffy. Brigitta laughed lightly before following Toffy, biting her lip and telling herself that life as a maid wouldn't be too terrible.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik, despite his better judgment, had found himself at the Opera auditions. He would not interfere, as he had promised Giry, but he could not help but see what 'talent' was being brought in. If he was going to be forced to listen to people sing all day he hoped they would not cause his ears to suffer. He took his usual position in Box 5, sitting in the shadows and resting the side of his head against the wall. If someone had walked in on him, they might have mistaken him for a dead body he was so still and lifeless. He felt dead, sucked dry of any will. He closed his eyes and sat there, slumped over and looking like death itself while he listened.

Every note felt flat on his ears, every song was missing care and tenderness. He had expected as much, but it proved to make him feel even more depleted. Nothing would compare to Christine. He had heard the music from heaven, so how could anything on earth compare? His despair bubbled into anger, but he quelled it as quickly as he could. It would do him no good, perhaps it would even kill him quicker. And perhaps that was a good thing. He could wither away in the depths of the Opera, everyone would forget him, and he could die and let the world turn silent.

 _"Twinkle, twinkle, little star!_

 _How I wonder what you are!"_

Erik opened his eyes. Was he hearing correctly? Sitting up, Erik dared to lean forward a little to peer down at the stage. Blinking in surprise, he saw a small girl, barley over the age of eight singing joyously in the center of the stage. Blue eyed, and with springy curls of blonde, the young girl was singing the simplest primary tune with so much radiance and happiness, it shook Erik to his core. She continued through all three verses, her little voice as crisp as a bell and she even danced through the last verse. The rest of the performers were done and gone, leaving no one to applaud her, but she did not seem to mind at all.

She smiled and bowed, her curls bouncing about her face. Erik, to his surprise, found himself smiling. Such innocence put into a simple song was something he had not been expecting that day and it pleased him greatly. His soul, which had remained unmoved for well over a year, was stirred and brought to life. Perhaps that was why he was not prepared for what came next. After the young girl flounced off the stage, the last performer stepped up. Erik thought that his heart stopped altogether.

She was beautiful, stunning, words that Erik had only reserved for Christine until now. Her skin was a milky white, eyes so blue that he could tell their color from where he was sitting. Long soft waves of blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders. He was sure if he had ran his fingers through it, it would prove to be soft and cool to the touch. He shook himself, trying to rid the light feeling that was invading his chest. He hadn't even heard her sing. He was ready to dismiss his initial reaction to the young girl until she parted her lips and began to sing.

Erik leaned back in his chair, eyes wide and mouth parting slightly so that he could take a large breath of air. It was as if he had been stabbed with a white hot poker, only it felt wonderful as well as painful. Her voice carried throughout the entire theater, filling the air with melodious notes that Erik thought he might never hear again. Her song was soft and simple, a country tune that had never entered the Opera before. It carried on for a few more minutes before ending, leaving Erik thirsty for more. Her voice ringing in his ears, Erik leaned forward upon the sound of Madame Giry's voice.

"Well…Miss-"

"Von Trost. Mina Von Trost," she said quickly. Erik silently mouthed her name, as if tasting it.

"Miss Von Trost." Erik could tell from the way Madame Giry spoke that she was equally moved by her singing, leaving her without much breath. "I think that we may have a place for you here. Along with your sister." Erik heart leapt. He watched as Mina spun on her heel, clasping her hands to his chest and letting out a small cry of happiness. The little girl ran back up onto the stage, running to her sister and jumping into her arms.

"Am I a princess now, Mina!?" she cried. Mina spun her around, her blue eyes wet with happiness.

"Yes Gretel! Princesses! And this is our castle!"

Erik watched as the two Von Trost sisters laughed, filling the theater with more life than Erik had ever witnessed. Falling back against his chair, Erik raised a hand to his heart and felt it pounding violently. It was as if their songs had brought him back to life. For that, he owed them everything. He quickly stood, hazel eyes sweeping back to look at Mina Von Trost. He would not admit it to himself quiet yet, but she had awakened him in more ways than one.

* * *

 **((Hey all! If you made it this far into the story - welcome! I have had this idea for a long while and have wanted to write it for so long so I am very happy to get it off of the ground! I am a major Phantom of the Opera nerd so there might be a few more fanfictions for this movie for sure. Hope you guys enjoy what I have to offer!))**


	4. Chapter 4

Brigitta waited, and waited, and waited.

Her backside has started to grow sore from sitting on the wooden stool and the stoves in the servant's kitchen was making the air hot and muggy. Sweat trickled down her neck and along the groove of her back. As if she didn't feel dirty all ready. A bath was well overdue, but she had to wait for whoever was supposed to oversee her being hired. Toffy had told her wait there and had waddled off to get whoever it was, leaving Brigitta to wait a full hour alone on a very uncomfortable stool.

Just when she was ready to hop down and see if she could find Toffy, the door to the kitchen opened. Straightening her back, Brigitta prepared to meet her employer, only to see a group of gaggling girls spill in through the door. Blinking in surprise, she watched as they laughed, tripping over one another and scurrying over to the pantry. They were all dressed in white attire that Brigitta recognized as ballet uniforms. All of them had black sashes wrapped around their waists, and high buns with matching bows. They all looked alike, which was a little unnerving.

They helped themselves to rolls and butter, as well as apples and pears, which she knew didn't come cheap. Feeling as if she should say something, Brigitta tenderly got off the stool. They obviously had not noticed her before, but they did now. They froze for a moment, hands full of bread and fruit, and their lips greasy from the butter.

"Uh," Brigitta said, suddenly at a loss for words. "Are you sure you should be in there when the cook isn't here?"

The ballerinas all looked at each other, eventually turning to stare at the tallest ballerina who was carelessly licking butter from her fingers. She was very beautiful, although her features reminded Brigitta of a cat, and she was not too fond of the creatures. Her curly red hair was pulled back in her bun, but that couldn't contain the few curls that had sprung few and were attractively hanging around her bodice. One would have expected someone with such red hair to be dusted with freckles, but the girl had none, which only made Brigitta more aware of her own. She stepped forward, her hips swinging from side to side in a figure eight pattern.

"That's the best time to go through the pantry," the girl said, starring down her nose at Brigitta. "When the cook isn't here." This girl obviously didn't care whether she was stealing or not, an irresponsible behavior that irritated Brigitta deeply.

"Who are you exactly?" she asked. The girl stiffened, the other ballerinas tittering behind her.

"My name is Alexis Pompidou, Mademoiselle Pompidou to you," she said, speaking as if she were the Queen of France. "And who are you? I have never seen a maid so young before. Usually they are all fat and old, not skinny as a twig and ugly to boot." The other ballerinas giggling behind their hands. Brigitta flushed red, offended for herself as well as Toffy.

"I'm Brigitta," she said through clenched teeth, not able to think of anything witty to say. Alexis smirked, taking a large bit out of the red apple in her hand.

"I don't know why I even asked," she said, tossing the apple at Brigitta who quickly taught it. "I don't remember any of the help's names anyway." She waved a hand and the other ballerinas shut the pantry to prance off behind her, laughing and looking back at Birgitta. The door closed behind them, leaving Brigitta to fume and feel more worthless than before. The other door opened a second later and Toffy returned, along with the hawk eyed woman she had met in the lobby. The dark woman's eyes narrowed in on the apple with the bite out of it in Brigitta's hands. Brigitta quickly set it on the table, returning her hands to rest in front of her, knuckled turning white.

"So this is her?" the woman said, looking Brigitta up and down. Toffy nodded her head, her cheery smile no longer on her face. "Do you have much experience with cleaning and organization?" the woman asked.

"Yes, Madame." Birigitta answered quickly. "I did all the cleaning around my home back in Germany." She did not mention that it had only been for a few years, and that before that she had lived in a place where she was cleaned up after. No one needed to know that. It didn't matter anymore anyway. The woman made a humming noise.

"Well then, you have the job. It will not be easy however. I may need you to take on some duties as a stagehand as well. We are understaffed as it is and I won't have negligent workers."

"No, Madame of course not," Brigitta answered. Nodding her head, the woman turned to speak with Toffy.

"Get her a uniform and show where she will be staying. I have to go show the new performers to their rooms now that auditions are over." Brigitta felt a pang of panic and quickly stepped forward, eyes wide.

"The auditions are over?" she said, her voice weak. The woman turned back to Brigitta, hawk eyes narrowing.

"Yes," she said. "I do hope you were not planning on auditioning."

"No," Brigitta said, her voice growing softer. "But my sisters did…" She had missed Gretel singing, something she would not easily forgive herself for.

"Your sisters?" the woman said. "What are their names?"

"Mina and Gretel Von Trost," Brigitta answered, her fingers lacing together tightly. The woman's thin eyebrows rose in surprise, making Brigitta fidget. No doubt she had assumed that she was their maid and not at all related to them. Thankful she didn't point it out, Brigitta dared to look up at her.

"Both your sisters earned their positions in the chorus," the woman said. "They did very well. You should be proud." Brigitta's shoulders sunk and she lowered her head.

"Yes, Madame," she said weakly. She inspected Brigitta for a moment longer before turning back to Toffy. "See that she is ready for work tomorrow," she said and left them both to stand in the muggy kitchen. Toffy stepped forward, her smile springing back into place the moment the woman left.

"That is wonderful news!" She said cheerily, although Brigitta wasn't sure if she was talking about her becoming a maid or her sisters becoming performers.

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 **((Another chapter today! Things are going to start winding down a tad since I will be traveling for the next few weeks, but please enjoy what there is! Don't hesitate to leave a review to let me know what you think 3))**


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh Brigitta, it is like a dream isn't it?"

Brigitta watched as Mina spun around her room, dressed in a simple white nightgown that had been supplied by the staff. Even in such a simple dress, Mina looked like a vision, spinning around and laughing as she did so. Brigitta tried to smile as she sat on Mina's bed, little Gretel in front of her. She was trying to brush her sister's hair before bed, but the little girl was bouncing up and down and laughing as she watched her eldest sister dance.

"Gretel, please stay still," Brigitta breathed, placing a hand on her shoulder to try and still her.

"And to think that you get to work here with us!" Mina sighed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. Brigitta tugged the brush through Gretel's hair, biting her tongue to the point of it hurting. Working as a maid wasn't exactly the same as being a performer, but she had no right to point that out. She was just glad that they weren't going to end up on the streets after all. Mina finally calmed down enough to sit on the bed beside them, hugging her pillow and gazing out of the window dreamily. "We are supposed to begin training tomorrow. I am so excited." Mina fell back on the bed, closing her eyes and sighing happily.

"Will you be there Brigitta?" Gretel asked, twisting her head about to look at her sister in the eyes.

"No, I have my training somewhere else," Brigitta said, offering a tired smile. Gretel pouted in response, making Brigitta smile a little more genuinely. "Hey now, you will be just fine," she said, poking her sister's lower lip to tuck it back into a normal position. "Lots of music and singing. You like music, right?" Gretel nodded, her eyes lighting up.

"I wonder which production we will be doing first," Mina said, sitting up and grinning at her sisters. "I hope it is Faust! I have always wanted to be in Faust."

"There!" Brigitta said, patting Gretel's head. "All finished." Brigitta had begun to feel her eyes droop and it seemed that Mina was about to start rambling on about Opera again. All she wanted was to sleep and escape from Mina's excited chatter. "I think I had better head back," she said, kissing Gretel on the forehead.

"No, you sleep with us!" Gretel said, grabbing her hand as she stood. Mina leaned forward and tickled Gretel's sides to detract her hold on Brigitta.

"Brigitta sleeps somewhere else now," she said, pulling Gretel on her lap. "You and I will have a never ending sleep over." Brigitta felt her heart sink a little but wished her sisters goodnight before turning and leaving the performer's wing.

The Opera House was cold and dark, sending shivers down Brigitta's spine. The building felt like a foreign sleeping beast that would wake if she was not quite enough and swallow her whole. Picking up the hem of her new uniform she hurried down the darkened hall and down a series of stairs, the air growing colder and colder. Minutes pasted before she came to realize that she had not reached the servant's quarters yet. Heart pounding in her ears she turned around and backtracked, only becoming more and more lost. Just as panic was starting to seize her she came to an open stone room. The sudden open space allowed her to breathe a little easier. Blinking, her sight adjusting to the darkness she found herself in a small chapel, one stained glass window supplying light, a small stand for burning candles the only thing in the room.

She came to realize she had found the Opera's chapel and felt a little safer. Her gaze found the small rack of candles, biting her lip. She had not prayed in a long while or lit a candle for her parents. The small flickering flames seemed to stare back at her, as if they were the eyes of the dead. A shudder ran up her spine and she quickly turned, heading up the stairs on the other side of the room. She couldn't be bothered to pray, she had nothing to pray for. God seemed easier to believe in when everything was as it should have been. When their parents had been alive and Brigitta and her sisters had bright futures looking back at them. What had God ever done for them? Taken away their parents, their home, put them in the God-awful world of theater…

Brigitta stopped upon hearing a voice echoing against the stone walls farther up the passage and let out a sigh of relief. Letting the chapel sink farther and farther behind her she picked up the hem of her skirts, her footsteps mixing with the voice that were going louder and louder as she made her way up where the voice was coming from.

"He was hideous," the voice said, its tone snide and intense. "Missing a nose, eyes red as if possessed by the devil himself! Skin rotted and sagging from his very flesh as if he was a walking corpse." Brigitta cautiously rounded the corner, taking a quick peak to see a large gaggle of girls sitting in the dark, huddled close together like a frightened pack of kittens. In the center of the circle was Alexis, her red hair illuminated by the candle she was holding, casting dark shadows across her face. Brigitta was not at all eager to run into the spoiled prima ballerina again and stayed hidden, watching as Alexis continued with her apparent ghostly tale, her shoulder's hunched as she crept around the group, making the younger girls shrink back in fright.

"Down to hell with me! He cried, grabbing the Prima Donna. His breath stunk of rotting meat, nails digging into her arm. It was ghastly. She struggled and cried but there was nothing she could do! He leapt off of the railing before disappearing into the floor as if hell had opened its mouth and swallowed them both whole!" Alexis snapped her teeth at the girls who let out frightened screams, clinging to each other.

"What h-happened to the Prima Donna?" One of them asked. Alexis stood up straight, smirking down at them. The older ballerinas snickered behind their hands, although Brigitta noticed how they kept close together as well.

"The corpse held her there. Many men tried going down into the cellars to retrieve her, but the Phantom had the devil himself on his side." Alexis leaned down, placing the flame of the candle right in front of the girl's faces, making them flinch. "The fires of Hell rose from these very cellars, licking the Opera House like it was a prime roast! Cooking everyone alive inside. The Prima Donna burned alive with the Phantom, their souls forever trapped together here in this Opera House." Alexis ended her story, her words echoing through the air, the ballerinas whimpering and hugging each other tightly.

"That's nonsense," one of the girl bravely chirped, raising her chin. "Everyone knows Christine Daae left with the Viscount!" Alexis angled her head and laughed as if the girl was a silly babe.

"That is what everyone said, but no one has seen either of them since! Everyone wants to believe there was a happy ending, but just look at what happened to this very Opera! It is a wonder the Phantom let us all enter here to bring it back to life!"

Brigitta grimaced in distaste. Ghost stories were childish, and this one was hardly impressive. Although Brigitta couldn't help but feel a presence, something breathing down her neck, as if someone was watching them…

She gasped, whirling around to make sure no one was behind her. The noise made the girls squeal in surprise, all of them whirling around to see Brigitta cowering around the corner, gripping the back of her neck to try and stop her hairs from standing on end. Alexis blinked before placing a hand on her hip, sneering down at Brigitta.

"It seems there is still a rat problem down here," she said, looking to the other ballerinas who laughed. Brigitta felt her ears grow hot, standing up straighter and coming out fully from behind the corner.

"My name is Brigitta." Alexis waved her hand, rolling her eyes.

"I can't be bothered to remember the name of every maid in this place, so from now on you are Rat. What are you doing here, Rat?" Brigitta tightened her jaw but said nothing to correct her. She couldn't stand theater people and Alexis seemed to be one of the worst. Why Mina wanted to join such an awful career was beyond her.

"I got lost," she answered, her voice hardly carrying. Alexis leaned forward, placing a hand to her ear.

"What was that Rat? Such a quiet little rat you are. Were you spying on us?"

"Maybe she wanted to hear the story to," one of the younger ballerinas suggested, practically in one of the other girl's laps. Alexis eyed the young ballerina before looking back to Brigitta, her lips curling into a cat like grin.

"Is that it, Rat? Wanted to hear a story from someone who can tell one properly?" She tossed her long red hair back over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow and looking at Brigitta expectantly. Brigitta raised her chin a tad.

"I'm not really one for stories, let alone ghost stories," she said, clenching her fists tightly.

"Oh, but it isn't a story!" The young ballerina chirped up again before Alexis could respond. "It all happened!" Brigitta's gaze softened as she looked at the young girl. She was probably only a year or two older than Gretel. God above she hoped her sweet little sister did not grow up into a snarly beast like Alexis if she stayed here…

"Are you telling me you don't know?" Alexis interjected, returning the attention to her. She shook her head, as if Brigitta was a poor simpleton. "Honestly, if you are going to work here you should really learn the history, and learn the language," she said, poking fun at Brigitta's rough French and thick German accent. Brigitta felt her face grow hot, clenching her fists and doing her best to bite her tongue and not lash out. Alexis walked forward gracefully, raising the candle up close to Brigitta's face, illuminating her plain features. "The Phantom of the Opera." The very words sent the ballerinas into a titter, their whispered making the room echo with fear. Brigitta tried her best not to react, but she felt a cold chill over take her, as if her blood had turned to ice. "A ghost that has haunted this place since the very first stone was placed." The flame flickered in Alexis' unblinking eyes, making her look possessed.

"He fell for a singer here, controlled her voice and her thoughts, killed anyone who came in between them. Do you have any idea how many people have died here, Rat?" Brigitta swallowed, her shoulders shaking lightly.

"How do you know all this? Where you there?" Brigitta challenged. Alexis laughed, eyes flashing at Brigitta's defiance.

"Anyone who was anyone was at the Opera that night," she replied, lifting her chin and looking down her nose at Brigitta. "I know more about it than anyone." Brigitta didn't believe her, and her crinkled eyebrows and downturned mouth made it very clear that she didn't. Alexis barred her pearly whites in a large grin, taking a step closer. "You must have heard of the fire that destroyed this place – gutted it from the inside out like a sickness?" Brigitta said nothing, but her mind flashed to the day Mina read that the Paris Opera House had burned down in some tragedy. She had cried nonstop for the longest time for a place she had never even been. It was as if her dreams had burned down along with the building.

"I don't believe in ghosts," Brigitta whispered, wishing she was able to speak louder and with more confidence.

"Then you are a silly Rat," Alexis hissed. Brigitta hated how much the red head was enjoying this, probably more than when she had been when scaring the other girls. "This place is riddled with ghosts. The Phantom won't be satisfied with just one girl, oh no, he must be hungry for more. Ghosts are like that, forever starving, always hungry, never stopping…And you know what they like best?" Brigitta did not answer, the darkness seemed to be closing in around her as Alexis placed the flame right in front of her face.

"RATS!"

Brigitta jumped, turned on her heel and ran in fright, wanting to get as far away from Alexis, her stories, and the other ballet brats as she could. Their echoed laughter seemed to chase her down the halls, her hands clapped to her ears as she ran, ran, ran – all the way to the servant's quarters where she locked the door and jumped into her bed, hiding under her covers and fighting back tears, hating the Opera and everything to do with it.

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 **((Thanks again for reading my story! Please don't hesitate to review and let me know what you think. I will be heading out on a trip so there will be a lull in me posting chapters until I get back. But I will be taking my notebook with me and planning everything out ;) Hope you guys have fun Thanksgiving plans!))**


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